


Third time's a charm

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [21]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Berlin Wall, F/M, Reincarnation, Trojan War, black death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:18:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: Jon and Sansa fall in love through the ages, every time they meet. But the first two times they meet they lose it each other. Will they lose each other again the third time?





	1. Troy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the historical Jonsa Event by Jonsa-Creatives on tumblr

The smell of burning fire made her stomach twirl. The sound of weapons crashing, clattering and breaking made her brain explode. The sight of strange men rushing around corners and into houses made her heart race in her chest. 

She had to find him. She had to find him before someone would find her.

The screaming of women was deafening. The crying of babies was almost crippling. The bright light of all the flames slowly consuming the city that hadn’t fallen for so long was blinding.

She pressed her back to a wall when thrumming footsteps ran past her. She hid herself in what was left of the shadows while she slowly made her way through the once so majestic town to his small cottage. She couldn’t be caught. She knew all too well what would happen if she was caught.

Last breaths filled the ashy air. Souls on their way to Hades tried to hold onto their human bodies for as long as possible. Souls who were denied to leave their bodies were forced to look away from the horror and violence. 

Maybe he was already dead. Maybe his body was already burned. Maybe his soul was already crossing the Styx, accompanied by his friends.

Men shouted from the top of the walls while baby bodies fell down to their doom. Mothers begged for lives to be spared, while their dresses were ripped to pieces, no longer covering their bodies. The iron of blood filled her nostrils. Her own heart thrummed in her ears while she tried to stay out of all those grippy and lusting hands. 

“Jon!” She rushed into his cottage. Smoke circled into the brightened sky, but inside there was nothing but a deafening silence. “Jon!” She screamed again and out of breath she looked at the chaos.

Pots were shattered on the floor. Blood stained the straw in the corner. The once so proud wolf always at his side was barely recognizable. 

Sansa held her breath when she saw him. 

His black curls were messily glued together by blood. His entire face was already slightly blackened by the flames that had licked his skin. His eyes were lifeless, staring at the ceiling and into nowhere. His legs and arms were broken in more places than Sansa wanted to count.

“No…” She shook her head and kneeled down next to what was left of his body. “No, no, no…” Tears ran down her cheeks, down her neck, down her chest. She grabbed his body and pressed it as tightly to her chest as possible. If only her tears could heal him, could bring him back, if only Hades would have mercy on her. 

But Hades wasn’t fighting this war and the Gods who were, were too far into this game to pity a princess of Troy. 

“Here you are, princess.” 

Sansa closed her eyes and pressed two soft kisses on Jon’s eyes after she closed them. Quickly she looked for the coin she was carrying with her and she placed it under his tongue. 

“You and I are gonna have so much fun together.” Ramsay Bolton kicked the lifeless body of Jon away and he lifted Sansa forcefully from the floor. “You'll be my personal maid of honor.”

Sansa hid all her memories and emotions behind a wall. She knew what was waiting for her, but it would be happening to a girl who wasn’t really there anymore.


	2. Black Death

The cobbles under his feet were slippery and dirty. The smell of burned flesh and rotting corpses was filling the air around him. Soft moaning and crying came from inside the houses. Loud screaming echoed through the mostly empty streets. 

Jon ran bare feet through the town and every time he saw a dark black cross on a wooden front door his heart stopped beating for a second. 

The sun was shining brightly, but there was a darkness lingering over the entire village, over the entire world. The only ones enjoying the here and now were the rats and mouses, the flies and fleas.

Jon kept on running. His feet were bloody and messy, covered in sand and dirt from the outside world. He had sold his shoes weeks ago to buy himself and her something that would protect them. 

It seemed that whatever was being sold didn’t work. Death had come to their doorsteps and it didn’t bother to knock. It wandered in and took whatever it could grab. And not once did it seem satisfied or full. Maybe it wouldn’t leave until every last person had died. 

Maybe she tried to fight. Maybe she tried to battle the fever and the black spots covering her beautiful skin. Maybe she held onto the future they had planned and dreamed of. 

More and more black crosses appeared on the wooden doors. The silence was almost deafening in this part of the village. Once it had been beautiful here. Whoever lived here had made it. But it seemed that riches didn’t matter when darkness took over and attempted to rule. 

“Sansa!” Jon knew that the black cross on their wooden door should have stopped him, but he had to see her one last time. 

Tomorrow this place would be burned down to the ground. A pathetic attempt to keep death away from other doors. As if death wasn’t immune to fire. 

“Sansa!” He found her in the bedroom.

The parts of her skin that weren’t covered in blackness was pale and pale white. She had her eyes wide open and stared at the ceiling. She looked nothing like the girl he had once loved so much. Maybe because her soul had been welcomed by God, watching over them and feeling as powerless as everyone else while his children were suffering. 

He knew he shouldn’t touch her, but he wasn’t afraid of death anymore. Without her, he had not much to live for anyway. So he lifted her lifeless body up and pressed her as tightly to his chest as possible. He rocked her in his arms, saying all those things to her he should have said when she could still hear it.

“I love you, Sansa Stark.” He whispered and tears ran down his face and neck. “Living without you will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do.” He closed his eyes and sat there until the night fell, until the sun came up again, until the smell of fire started to fill the air. 

“Come at me, Death!” Jon screamed, but he carefully laid Sansa down on the bed while he left the house. “If you can take someone like her, it shouldn’t be hard to take someone like me.”


	3. Berlin Wall

Sansa stared at the television. The book she was holding couldn’t keep her attention and the letter she had gotten this morning was burning in the pocket of her skirt. Every few seconds her eyes stared at the clock, ticking away the seconds and the minutes. Every few minutes she sent another prayer to whatever God was listening to her. 

 

Jon’s heart raced in his chest while he walked through the empty streets of Berlin. Due to the curfew everyone was already inside, but he refused to follow those stupid rules any longer. He needed to breath. He needed to get out. He needed to see his girl and hold her. He needed to be on the other side of that stupid wall. And he’d get there.

 

Sansa stood up from her seat and walked to the hallway. She reached for her jacket and put it on. She hoped that no one would see her leave the house and she for sure hoped that no one would ask where she was going this late. She wasn’t sure if Jon would pull it of. And maybe she didn’t want to be there if he didn’t pull it of. But she certainly needed to be there if he did. 

 

Jon tried to look confident. He straightened his back and lifted his chin. He made sure his steps were firm. Instead of trying not to be heard, he wanted to be heard. He climbed over the first barrier and he stared at the horizon, at the west, at his final destination. He wondered if anyone would notice that his shoulders didn’t quite fill the uniform, but he didn’t allow himself to worry about it too much.

 

The evening wind was chilly while Sansa walked through Berlin. The bars were filled with people and no one really cared about a little red haired girl making her way to the wall, to the border. Her cheeks blushed while she saw all the neon signs and the billboards. She wondered what her new world would look like to Jon, who had lived so long without the luxury of coca cola poisoning his body and pop music blasting through his speakers.

 

He hoped that no one could hear his heart beating. He hoped that no one would notice the veins in his neck. He hoped that his accent hadn’t changed that much over the years. He actually hoped that no one would notice him before he had reached the right side of all those barriers. The moment he heard a loud scream he knew he wouldn’t be that lucky.

 

Sansa had her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She felt a chill rolling down her spine, but it was almost impossible to say if it was because she was nervous or because she was cold. She stared at the clock once more, counting the seconds ticking away. She thought he should have been here already. She feared that maybe he would never come back to her anymore. 

 

“What are you doing here?” The soldier eyed Jon and let his eyes wander over the American uniform. It was a good replica, that good that Jon hoped that the soldier wouldn’t be capable of telling that it wasn’t real. 

“What are you doing here? Isn’t this my territory?” Jon raised his eyebrows and acted like he was surprised, superior, strong. 

The Russian soldier wouldn’t shoot an American soldier. Not if he wanted to keep the delicate and strange form of peace there was now after years of war. 

“No! It’s mine! Go back to your own part and stay there!” 

Jon had to keep himself from smiling, but without hesitating he walked further and further, away from the DDR. Towards the BRD. Towards Sansa.

 

Sansa let out a deep sigh. Maybe she should turn around and walk away. Maybe she should go home, burry her face in her pillow and cry all those tears she had fought for way too long. The war had been cruel and there wasn’t a part of her that wanted to go back to all those years ago. But the wall was cruel too and she knew that if Jon had tried to escape and had been caught, he would be gone forever. 

She looked up when she saw a shadow, coming closer and closer, jumping across the barriers. A smile appeared on her face and before she knew it she started running. She started running on her high heels, through the cold. 

 

Her smile was like a beacon, calling him home, luring him in. He couldn’t stay calm any longer. He jumped across the last barrier and then he started running until their bodies collided and they crashed into each other. He held her face between his hands, raw from all the hard work. He pressed his lips to hers, firmly, desperately. For years he had been drowning and now he could finally breath again.

 

“You made it!” Sansa felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, down her neck, but she was smiling. For the first time in years she was actually smiling. “You really made it.”

Jon wrapped his arms around her and pressed her as firmly to his chest as possible while she tightened her grip around him. “I made it…” He kissed her again and again and again. “And I’ll never ever let you go again.”

“I wouldn’t let you.” Sansa whispered. “I missed you. I missed you so much. I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“There is no such thing as never.” Jon shook his head and he used his thumbs to wipe her tears away. “If we wouldn’t have found each other again in this life, we would have found each other in the next.”


End file.
